


Telling Lies

by NoMercy



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:00:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7818877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoMercy/pseuds/NoMercy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And Otis carried that little girl up to the loft of the barn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Telling Lies

 

Otis hadn’t seen a bitten person who had not yet fallen completely to sickness since Annette. Since Shawn.

But here she was, on the ground in front of him at the border of the woods, leaning against a tree and with seemingly no intention of going anywhere.

Her tear-filled hazel eyes were staring up at him, shoulders shaking with sobs that had long since run out of tears, filthy and so obviously exhausted. His heart sank at the sight of a familiar, large bite wound on the dip of her neck.

For just a moment, he was frozen. Logically, he knew there were children out there who had gotten infected, that there might come a time when he’d be faced with one on the property that he’d have to lead to the barn. He just hadn’t expected … she wasn’t even sick yet. Hadn’t lost herself to the infection. She was just a hurt, scared little girl.

_‘But she’ll get sick,’_ he reminded himself. _‘She’ll get so sick that she won’t be able to help herself. And someone will panic, and they’ll kill her.’_

He couldn’t let that happen. Not to anyone, but especially not to a child.

“Hi, honey,” he said softly, kneeling in front of her. She whimpered, whether in pain or fear he didn’t know, but didn’t move away. “Why don’t you come with me? I’ll get you some place safe.”

Children were supposed to say no to adults they didn’t know, were supposed to run away from strangers who asked them to come with them, were supposed to scream for help until help came.

But she just slowly, carefully lifted her arms out to him.

 

* * *

 

 

“Please don’t leave me in here,” the little girl whispered, sagging in his hold as he made his way over to the mess of hay spread out in the corner of the loft. Bethy had done it last time she’d slept in the barn … months ago, now. But it would still work. “Please?”

Otis’ heart broke at the sound of her small voice, instinctively pulling her closer to his chest as he approached the hay. Lord, he wanted nothing more than to bring this child up to the house, give her to Hershel to fix up and get her full of food and into a warm bed. Let Patricia smother her with affection and Maggie and Beth cuddle around her, get her to smile and laugh.

But even through the added cover of his vest, he could feel the growing heat of her skin; there was already a beginning glaze of fever in her eyes. The bite on her shoulder was vicious, torn open and mangled from the frenzy of the person who bit her, but like all the others, it wasn’t bleeding anymore – already filled with and lost to infection. He couldn’t bring her back to the house. Couldn’t risk his family like that.

“It’s okay,” he soothed quietly, bouncing her in his arms a little like he used to do for Maggie after her mama had died and Hershel had been too lost to the drink to comfort her. “It’ll just be for a little while. Just until we can get some medicine for you, get you feeling better. And then we’ll get you into the house. It’s okay.”

He lowered her carefully to the floor, selfishly grateful when she didn’t clutch onto his vest or fight him further. She looked even smaller than before, surrounded by the hay and shadowed by the sunlight filtering through the barn walls’ boards. Thankfully, Bethy had left some horse blankets laying around from her stay, and Otis quickly gathered them up.

Below, the sick he had gathered to hide safely in the barn snarled, loud and hungry – it wasn’t time for Patricia to come by with their nightly meal yet, but they were beyond ready for it.

“They can’t get you,” he assured when he caught the little girl flinching at the sounds. “They’re below us, and I took the ladder down so they can’t climb up. You’re safe up here, I promise.” He tried to smile as he draped a colorful blanket around her, but it felt tight and flat on his face.

“… how’s my mom going to know where I am?” Her question was soft as she snuggled into the blanket. “I ran – she doesn’t know where I went. She’ll be sad – my daddy already died.” A tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t want her to lose me too.”

Throat tight, he pulled another blanket over her. “I’ll tell her where you are. What’s her name so I can find her?”

“Carol Peletier,” the little girl responded promptly, but her voice was breathy. Her body was beginning to shiver visibly under the blanket, her eyes starting to droop. The illness must move faster in children. “She’s on the highway with our friends.”

“Alright. I’ll tell her, don’t you worry.”

“Don’t tell her I got bit,” she pleaded, eyes widening at him with obvious effort. “Just tell her that Sophia’s waiting for her in the barn. Say my name so she’ll believe you.”

He nodded sharply, keeping his smile on his face, and tucked the blankets around her shoulders, helping her make a cocoon to bury into. That always made the girls feel better when they were ill. “I will, honey.” His fingers brushed her forehead; it was hotter than before. “Why don’t you get some sleep while I go get her. Does that sound good?”

The little girl – Sophia – nodded tiredly. “That’s what Mister Jim did,” she murmured. “Mister Shane said it made him feel better to sleep.” Her eyes slipped closed, the tear track still on her face, and Otis slowly stood.

“I’m going to put some things around you, okay honey? Make it like a room, keep you safe until your mama comes. Would that be alright?”

Without opening her eyes, she nodded.

He tried to be quiet as he shifted enough bales of hay and water-filled barrels around her still-shivering form, high enough that she wouldn’t be able to easily crawl out. She’d succumb to the full effects of the sickness before there’d be a cure, but unless there was some loud noise to agitate her into a frenzy, the barrier he’d made would be enough to keep her from getting to Patricia when she came to bring them food. The ill were all docile in the quiet.

“I’ll bring you a few more blankets,” he whispered to her when he was done, stomach turning to lead at the sight of her laying helpless on the other side of the cage he’d made. “And my wife will bring you some food in a little bit. Okay?”

She nodded again, barely a twitch of her head. “Thank you,” she called out weakly. Like it was important for her to be polite.

He swallowed thickly, backing away for the window ladder. “You’re welcome, honey.”

He wasn’t even halfway to the window when he heard her say, small and almost inaudible, “Mister Jim died, though.”

 

* * *

 

 

When his feet were back on the ground outside of the barn, Otis couldn’t bring himself to turn and go up to the house.

He couldn’t tell his wife about the little girl he’d just left, ill and alone, in the loft of the barn. Couldn’t look Hershel in the eyes and tell him about a sick child. Couldn’t say those words in front of Beth and Maggie.

Not yet.

He needed … he needed to wait. Just for a little while, just until she’d fallen more into the fever, became a little more like the other sick people that were in the barn. He could tell them once she was more obviously ill, once he could see her as being infected like she was, and not as a child he’d lied to and abandoned.

He just … he needed time.

So he made his way toward the shed for his rifle – the house could always use more meat, and hunting would give him an excuse for being out for an extended amount of time. He’d be back by nightfall, and by then … then he could tell them. Patricia could take her food. She wouldn’t need the extra blanket. Otis wouldn’t need to see her.

He just hoped, God forgive him, that Carol Peletier was either dead or lost to the illness, and not waiting for him in the woods like her daughter had been.

**Author's Note:**

> ~~and then he shoots Carl and forgets to tell anyone about Sophia and then he dies~~


End file.
